Sara Wallman, our beautiful bonus daughter from Sweden,.wrote me the following letter. In the letter she asks questions that address current social issues. Her questions are important. So are my answers. I appreciate her interest in knowing where I stand, Hoping that you are interested too, I am posting both letters. [To better distinguish between the two letters, Sara's is in italics.]

Hello my beautiful bonus mother!

In our Religion class at school we have an assignment to compare two religions and my group have chosen Mormons and Muslims. The assignment is about religion in relation to identity. I would be so grateful if you wanted to share some thought about these 4 points, how they affect your identity as a Mormon.

Your answers will not be presented to anyone but the people in my group. We will just use your thought, and other things we've managed to find, to write an analysis during class

1) Social and economical background- ex. What's important about it in your own live and how it makes you act towards people with other social and economical backgrounds2) Ethnicity- ex. How are other ethnicities view in your religion and how has your ethnicity in combination with your religion affected your identity3) Gender- ex. How your gender affects your identity (and if this is because of your religion)4) Sexuality- ex. How has your view on this been affected by your religion.

You are free to not answer any of these questions or to answer how much or how little you feel like.

Everything I say, do, think and am is influenced by my belief in Jesus Christ. Everything. I strive to follow His example in all that I say, do and think. I embrace Christ as the Savior of all mankind and know that following Him and living His teachings will bring peace and joy in this life and in the life to come

Christ’s teachings center on love.

John 13:34: “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”

When asked what the greatest commandment was, Christ answered: “The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:28-31)

As a follower of Christ I sincerely strive to live a love filled life and to view others through eyes of love. As you well know, I am not perfect in my endeavors. More often than I like, I fail to act lovingly. However, treating others--ALL others, no matter their social or economic background--with love is what I try to do.

2. ETHNICITY

I am a literal daughter of God who loves me and I love Him. Long before I came to Earth I lived with and loved and was loved by my Father in Heaven. This is my identity. As a daughter of God I have a divine destiny.

We are all children of God. All of us. Long before coming to Earth we all lived with and loved and were loved by our Father in Heaven. Every person on Earth is a child of God; all of us have a common heritage and a divine destiny. This is my ethnicity and I share it with everyone. We are all brothers and sisters, children of a loving Father in Heaven who wants us to return to Him and who has prepared a way, via his Son Jesus Christ, for that to happen. As brothers and sisters, we have a divine responsibility to watch out for each other, to help each other, and to love each other. All of us.

3, GENDER 4. SEXUALITY

I am addressing these two together because both are very much affected by my religion---EVERYTHING about me is affected by my belief in Christ--- and both are addressed in the document below. Rather than attempting to use my words, I refer you to the words of our prophet, written as a proclamation to the world about our beliefs concerning the sacredness and sanctity of the family. Gender and sexuality are linked to family life and are addressed in the document. I fully embrace every word of this inspired document.

THE FAMILY:A PROCLAMATION TO THE WORLD

The First Presidency and Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints

WE, THE FIRST PRESIDENCY and the Council of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, solemnly proclaim that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that the family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.ALL HUMAN BEINGS—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.

IN THE PREMORTAL REALM, spirit sons and daughters knew and worshipped God as their Eternal Father and accepted His plan by which His children could obtain a physical body and gain earthly experience to progress toward perfection and ultimately realize their divine destiny as heirs of eternal life. The divine plan of happiness enables family relationships to be perpetuated beyond the grave. Sacred ordinances and covenants available in holy temples make it possible for individuals to return to the presence of God and for families to be united eternally.

THE FIRST COMMANDMENT that God gave to Adam and Eve pertained to their potential for parenthood as husband and wife. We declare that God’s commandment for His children to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force. We further declare that God has commanded that the sacred powers of procreation are to be employed only between man and woman, lawfully wedded as husband and wife.

WE DECLARE the means by which mortal life is created to be divinely appointed. We affirm the sanctity of life and of its importance in God’s eternal plan.

HUSBAND AND WIFE have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.

THE FAMILY is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed.

WE WARN that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets.​WE CALL UPON responsible citizens and officers of government everywhere to promote those measures designed to maintain and strengthen the family as the fundamental unit of society.​

Friday night the pig was alive and appeared well. Saturday morning we found it dead, blue, and bloated. What killed the pig? We have no idea. The county pig experts have no idea. The local vet has no idea.

We took the corpse to Logan and handed it over to Dr. (Something) at Utah State University’s Veterinary Diagnostic Laboratory. Hopefully she an idea. For a mere $210 (cost may increase depending on the lab tests that need to be done), she will do a necropsy and (probably, results not guaranteed) tell us what killed the pig.

Once upon a time, in the not-too-distant land of Perry, UT, Joe and Michelle Drago built a home on a hill. Their home on a hill has a driveway on a hill (on the same hill actually) and the driveway is not flat. No, no, no. In fact, the driveway is significantly steeply sloped.

Once upon a time, in the not-too-distant past (March 24, 2018), Lance and Teresa visited Joe and Michelle at their not-too-distant home in Perry, UT and parked Teresa’s truck (Teresa LOVES her truck) on the significantly steeply sloped driveway.

After an entertaining evening of Pinochle and pudding (actually the scrumptious dessert Michelle made probably was not pudding but I like the alliteration…), the Hislops headed home. Lance took the driver’s seat, started the truck, shifted into reverse, and attempted to back down the driveway. Thwarted by the parking brake, he attempted to release it. Thwarted by a lack of knowledge about the location of the parking brake release in Teresa’s truck (and unwilling to pull the wrong handle in case he popped the hood instead because.releasing the hood when backing down a driveway could be such a safety hazard…) Lance opened the door and stepped out of the truck.

Standing at eye level with the release handles, Lance quickly determined which was the appropriate handle and successfully released the parking brake. The truck began quickly moving down the driveway. Lance, thwarted by the rapidly rolling truck, the open driver’s side door that was pushing him from behind, and a body with five decades of life experience, was unable to get back into the truck to stop its descent.

Teresa, who was seated safely in the passenger seat, began to fear greatly for the safety of her truck and for the safety of the half million dollar home located directly behind her on the street’s west side. Also hampered by five decades of life experience, she did not have the agility or speed to move into the driver’s seat so she grabbed the truck’s steering wheel and pulled it clockwise, successfully changing the truck’s trajectory. The truck’s back end swung south, saving the house to the west. As the truck’s end swung south, its nose swung north and knocked Lance to the ground.

On the ground by the driver’s side door, Lance found himself in the immediate path of the north swinging front tires. Fearing for his life (with good reason), his 50 year old body found some adrenaline-induced energy and he rolled away from the approaching tires.

In the meantime, back in the cab, Teresa saw Lance disappear under the truck, realized the unintended consequences of her steering wheel grabbing maneuver, and was dealing with the horrifying realization that she had probably just run over her husband when the truck mysteriously starting moving forward, retracing its former path. Certain that she had now run over her husband not once but twice, Teresa sat in stunned silence as the truck rolled back up the driveway, and came to rest when it hit the car that was parked there.

In the meantime, back on the street (literally), having successfully dodged the truck’s front tires once, Lance looked up just in time to see those same front tires heading towards him again. Certain that his wife was intentionally trying to kill him, he found another font of adrenaline induced energy and once again rolled out of the path of the oncoming vehicle, successfully dodging death for the second time.

The truck was at rest; Teresa and Lance were not. Teresa was terrified thinking that she had run over Lance twice. Lance was traumatized thinking that Teresa had tried to run over him twice. In the end, the only casualty was Lance’s white shirt. The half-million dollar house was untouched. The lens and cell phone that fell from Lance’s glasses and pocket in the Great Rolling Escape, were recovered undamaged from the street. Teresa was cleared from blame when they realized that, in pulling the steering wheel down, she must have hit the shifting handle and knocked the gears from Reverse into Drive. She accidently caused the truck to move forward; Lance’s second encounter with the truck’s tires was not any more intentionally caused than was the first. And the dent in the bumper of the Drago’s car popped back out.

It was a night of miracles and morals. Miracles that no one and nothing (except the sacrificial white shirt) was hurt. Morals…..You decide the moral of this story!

As is tradition, Ogden Preparatory’s 8th graders were Ogden City’s Arbor Day celebration. And, as is tradition, it was a great success. Ogden City provided the plans, the pizza, and plenty of shovels. Ogden Prep provided the muscles and the “man” power. God gave us sunshine and soil and it was all good.

Arbor Day is an easy sell for me. In early April I tell my students about our Arbor Day tradition and invite them to join us. “We will be working,” I tell them. “Working. You will be digging big holes in hard, rocky ground. You will be using shovels and pickaxes. It may be super hot or it could be very, very cold. You will be working all day. Hard. Don’t come if you don’t want to work.” Then I tell them they apply for the privilege of working all day; they have to fill out an application and write a 200-300 word essay if they want to come. “And the application must be submitted by the deadline. Late applications will be discarded.”

I also tell them the city feeds us all-you-can-eat pizza and pop for lunch and that, for many former students, Arbor Day was their favorite field trip. Given that Arbor Day falls on the final Friday in April (which means they have to miss a day of school) and that tree planting has an inherent, organic appeal to most people, Arbor Day is not a hard sell, even though students have to write an essay and commit to work hard. This year 60 of my 90 students filled out an application and submitted it on time.

Arbor Day participation requires an investment from my students. It also requires a significant investment from Ogden City. Damien Reeves, Ogden’s Arbolist, and Monte Stewart, director of Parks and Rec, start preparations months in advance. They pick the parks, provide the trees, pay for the pizza, and coordinate with forest service personnel.

To be designated as an official “Tree City”, an honor Ogden has earned for 34 years in a row, Ogden must spend $2 per capita annually on tree related expenses and host an Arbor Day celebration and ceremony. Damien, Monte and their crew put the plans in place and Ogden Preparatory students put the plans in motion. It is a symbiotic relationship that benefits all.

Obviously, we listen better when we are silent In fact, it is hard to listen when we are not silent And the more parts of us that are silent (lips, limbs, and logic) the better we listen

What is less obvious but equally powerful is that the two words have the same letters, simply rearranged

Ponder the power of silencing our lips, limbs, and especially our own logic as you read this story told by ElderW. Craig Zwick in the October 2017 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. [Section in italics are my words.]

“....while serving as a mission president. A young elder arrived with apprehension in his eyes. As we met in an interview, he said dejectedly, “I want to go home.” I thought to myself, “Well, we can fix this.”Have you ever thought that while listening to someone? “I know just the answer…..” when talking to friends, in conversations with concerned spouse or a frustrated teen….??? “I counseled him to work hard and to pray about it for a week and then call me. A week later, almost to the minute, he called. He still wanted to go home. I again counseled him to pray, to work hard, and to call me in a week. In our next interview, things had not changed. He insisted on going home.”Has this ever happened to you? You know the answer but those whom you advise just are not listening?“I just wasn’t going to let that happen. I began teaching him about the sacred nature of his call. I encouraged him to “forget [himself] and go to work.”2 But no matter what formula I offered, his mind did not change.“It finally occurred to me that I might not have the whole picture. It was then that I felt a prompting to ask him the question: ‘Elder, what is hard for you?’ What he said pierced my heart: ‘President, I can’t read.’“The wise counsel which I thought was so important for him to hear was not at all relevant to his needs. What he needed most was for me to look beyond my hasty assessment and allow the Spirit to help me understand what was really on this elder’s mind. He needed me to see him correctly.” He needed me to see him correctly. The young missionary needed his mission president to listen to him.When we listen to others we begin to see them correctly and, by seeing them correctly, are be able to minister effectively to them, as we have been asked to do by our prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, and by our Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.Stephen R. Covey, author and international inspirational speaker whose 7 Habits of Highly Effective People has changed the world, teaches people to “Seek to understand, then to be understood”. We are more effective, in our families, in our professions, and in our ministry as servants in the Lord’s hands, when we try to understand others before insisting they understand us. Listening to cues, both verbal and nonverbal, is a skill that can be developed. Here are three powerful tips for effective listening, given to me by my boss, Amie Campbell, who knows how to listen.1. Listening is a conscious decision. We create the presence of mind to listen if we choose to but we have to remember that the brain can only do one thing at a time, so multitasking while you “pretend” to listen is not real. We need to say to ourselves “be present” as others begin to speak. Do this in personal meditation as well. We should be present to listen to what is whispered into our hearts and minds.

2. High emotions create barriers to good listening. When we are emotionally charged, we need time to calm down before being a listener and that is okay.

3. A need for “control” can destroy our ability to listen. If we want to make people see it our way, whether it is to force our opinion on them or to win an argument with them then we do not listen for understanding. Instead we listen to build rebuttal and to prepare what we want to say next. It is vitally important to step back from a disagreement or a need for control in order to hear the views of others. This is the number one thing that blocks communication.

My mission president told me “You have one mouth and two ears. Use them proportionally.”

A word to those in leadership positions…..This 2:1 ratio is so important. Many years ago, when Lance’s mental health issues threatened to destroy our home and family I longed to share the burden but, for multiple reasons, some good and some bad, was reluctant to initiate a conversation about my situation. I distinctly remember approaching several interviews with my ecclesiastical leaders hoping for a chance to unload. The good-hearted, well-intentioned leaders with whom I met talked to me; they not ask , listen, or give me a chance to share.. I am sure what they said was good though I do not remember any of it. What I do remember is that I entered their offices burdened and I left burdened. Clearly it all worked out. I am fine now. Lance too, believe it or not! But it would have been so nice then to have had someone who listened. This is true for all those in leadership positions. It is true for those in positions of friendship as well.

The Lord tells us to listen.

D&C 88:122 Appoint among yourselves a teacher, and let not all be spokesmen at once; but let one speak at a time and let all listen unto his sayings, that when all have spoken that all may be edified of all, and that every man may have an equal privilege.

One speak at a time (....the others are SILENT!)

Let all listen (not argue, not rebut, not judge, not moralize….LISTEN)

That ALL may be edified of ALL (True ministering!)

As we truly listen, all may be edified of all, as Christ has asked us to do and be.

Elder Zwick said “.....the gospel mentors us to look beyond what we see. To look beyond what we see, we must look at others through the eyes of our Savior. The gospel net is filled with people in all their variety. We can’t fully understand the choices and psychological backgrounds of people in our world, Church congregations, and even in our families, because we rarely have the whole picture of who they are. We must look past the easy assumptions and stereotypes and widen the tiny lens of our own experience.”

“For man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).

We cannot see beneath the outward appearance and look, as the Lord does, on the heart but we can listen to people as they share their hearts..

My wise and cherished friend Rob Dow helped me understand that most sincere listening communication is nonverbal because it comes from the heart; it is motivated by love..

Why does God listen to our prayers? Because He loves us.

LOVE is a key to LISTENING

Look at what Paul teaches us about love:

"Love suffereth long" (Patience)

"and is kind" (Kindness)

"Love envieth not" (generosity)

"love vaunteth no itself, is not puffed up" (humility)

Doth not behave itself unseemly" (courtesy)

"seeketh not its own" (Unselfishness)

"Is not provoked" (good Temper)

"Taketh not account of evil" (guilelessness)

"rejoiceth not in unrighteousness but rejoiceth with the truth" (sincerity)

If we listen with these qualities then we will be really listening with our hearts and minds and spirits and our verbal and nonverbal communication would fall right in line with Christ’s teachings and we will minister.

We will do and be what is needed at the time it is needed--whatever that might be. We would mourn with those that mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice you; We will be a ministers and respond in the a manner that God would have us respond.

A good picture of real listening is a caring mother lovingly and attentively listening to her child as if the rest of the world doesn't exist.

Be SILENT. Be PRESENT. LISTEN!

Following are some examples of love listening.

When I was in 6th grade my mom had two small children at home and was busily (and somewhat frantically) preparing dinner one evening while I was playing in my room. My then 3 year old brother tipped a lightweight, child-sized rocking chair over on top of me. I could have easily stood up and freed myself. Instead I called for my mother and asked for her help. Was I really asking for her help? No. I did not really need help. I was asking for her attention. Listening with love she understood my real plea.

Last week Kasey came into my room during his lunch break. “Did you hear what Marco and Ken were saying about me?: he asked and then explained, “I was just wondering if you heard because you did not do anything about it…’ Kasey was not accusing me of negligence nor was he trying to get his peers in trouble. Love listening lead me to tell him I had not heard the name calling and reassure him that I cared about him and that, if I had heard the bullying, I would have stopped it.

My elderly neighbor, John Malan, celled me three minutes after giving me a jar of honey to ask me if I liked it. Three minutes. I hadn’t time to hang my keys on the rack, much less taste the honey. Love listening told me that John wasn’t really calling to see if I liked the honey; he called because he was lonely and craved connections.

When Grace (or Tanah or Miles) says “Mom…..” and begins to talk she is not usually asking for advice or wisdom or solutions. (Though clearly I have lots of advice and wisdom and solutions!) I have found most often with teens, children, even most adults, but most especially teens, to listen bestly is to be silent mostly. For teens especially, the 2 ears:1 mouth ratio should probably be, instead of 2 to 1, 10 to 1 or maybe even more.

Love listening is particularly important for husbands and wives. Love listening helps me see that Lance is telling me he loves me when he rinses the dishes….and that he is NOT telling me that he does not love me when he throws his socks on the floor. With our spouses the principle of “seek to understand then to be understood” is critically important. We cannot listen to our spouses with the intent to change them, convince them, and/or control them. We must seek to understand as we listen to them.

When we were relatively newly wed Lance and I disagreed on what keeping the Sabbath Day holy looked like. He came from a family that swam and watched TV on Sundays. Apostates!!!! I felt like he was a heathen and he felt I was a Pharisee. It was NOT pretty. As we sought to understand each other we learned that we were both children of God, trying to do what we felt was right. Love listening to one’s spouse means seeing him or her as a child of God with human insecurities, weaknesses, and foibles...and a good heart with desire to do right.

Another oft overlooked aspect of listening is to ask. Afraid to say the wrong thing, too often we say nothing at all...which is the wrong thing. Sheryl Sandberg, in her book Option B, writes about losing her husband Dave who died suddenly while still quite young. “[Before he died] Dave and I had discussed [our friend] Jeff’s MS diagnosis many times with each other but that morning I realized I had never actually spoken with Jeff about it.

“‘Jeff,’ I said, ‘how are you? I mean, really, how are you? How are you feeling? Are you scared?’

“Jeff looked up in surprise and paused for a few long moments. With tears in his eyes he said, ‘Thank you. Thank you for asking.’ And then he talked. He talked about his diagnosis and how he hated that he had to stop practicing medicine. How his continued deterioration was hard on his children. How he was worried about his future. How relieved he felt being able to talk about it with me and the others at the table that morning. When breakfast was over, he hugged me tight.

She continues “In the early weeks after Dave died I was shocked when I’d see friends who did not ask how I was doing. I went to a close friend’s house for dinner and she and her husband made small talk the entire time. It was not until the breakfast with Jeff that I realized I was sometimes the friend who avoided painful conversations.I had failed to ask him about his health not because I did not care but because I was afraid of upsetting him. Losing Dave made me realize how ludicrous that was. It wasn’t possible for me to remind Jeff that he was living with MS. He was aware of that every minute of every day.” Ask, she pleads, and then listen.

I can personally testify of this. When our family was dealing with Lance’s major mental health issues, I felt so very isolated, so completely alone. Later one person said to me, “I did not ask you because I did not want to make you cry.” She was right. Asking would have made me cry. But I needed to cry. The tears would have been tears of relief in not having to carry the burden alone.

Note that asking is different than probing. Ask and then respect. Sometimes talking is not beneficial but almost always asking is.

Love listening helps us know when to ask questions and what questions to askLove listening helps us know when to be silent and when to advise. Love listening helps us look on the heart and see others as Christ sees them.Love listening invites the Spirit to guide us and give us glimpses into the hearts of others.

I asked some friends to share the places and/or times when they most frequently receive guidance from the Spirit. This is what I was told:

Sandy Underwood: It comes to me when I extend a little effort..praying for spiritual experiences in church, temple, reading scriptures, focus on listening to still small voice when I am alone

Janet Mayes: In the shower

Michelle Drago: When working

Me: When exercising...It used to be running but I don’t really run anymore. Now it is more appropriately called shuffling…

Cierra Stewart: Out in nature

Lance: In bed and when reading scriptures

Tanah: When fasting

Notice that NO ONE SAID “WHILE I AM ON MY CELL PHONE” . Part of listening is creating space. Put the phone down and listen…..to your friends, family, and Father in Heaven. Create a space for God in your life.

Psalms 46:10 Be still, and know that I am God: Be Still. Be present. Be SILENT. LISTEN.

In her LDS April 2016 Conference address Sister Neill F Marriott promised: “As we ask Father in Heaven to make us builders of His kingdom, His power will flow into us and we will know how to nurture.” I would add “minister”..

I testify this is true. I have asked the Father to make me a builder in His nation and I have felt His power flow into me. He has helped me to listen, to nurture and to minister and He will do the same for you if you will ask…..and LISTEN. I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

About six weeks ago I found myself in an awful dilemma in an awful storm and I felt awful (VERY!). Due to a mistake that was entirely my own, I was wet and cold and tired. Worse yet, my mistake caused 80 innocent people, people who trustingly followed me, to be wet and cold and tired as well. In the moment I was helpless and hopeless. There was nothing I could do to save myself or the innocents I caused to suffer. Yep, I felt awful.

Then, miraculously, two yellow school buses appeared. They opened their doors and delivered us from the storm.

I did nothing to merit our rescue. I did not pay any money; I did not pull any favors. The people responsible for the buses owed me nothing; they served us solely because they were good and we were in need. Thanks to their goodness, mercy and compassion, a service was provided for me (and those I had hurt) that I could not do for myself or for them. Free. Unmerited.

About two weeks ago, traveling back from my bike adventure in Mesquite, I again encountered a snow storm. This time I was in a car so being cold and wet was not an issue (though I was very definitely tired…) but I found myself again dealing with driving snow and low visibility. Conditions were not ideal. I reduced my speed to less than half the posted limit and crawled cautiously up the interstate.

With both hands gripping the steering wheel and both eyes focused on the road, my mind meandered to my youth. I remembered my father’s storm-driving advice. “If you can,” he said, “follow a bus in a storm. Because they are heavy with a low center of gravity they travel well in storms. Follow a bus and let it lead you to safety.”

Within minutes a yellow school bus passed me. I tucked in behind it and it led me safely home.

School buses…..rescued me when I was helpless and hopeless……eased my suffering and the suffering of those I caused to suffer…..did for me what I could not do for myself……..gave me a free, unmerited gift………...and guided me safely home.

Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ rescues us when we are helpless and hopeless. He can deliver us from life’s storms. Through His infinite atonement He did for us what we cannot do for ourselves; He broke the binding bands of death and paid the price justice demands for the eternal laws we break and the heartache we create. Because He suffered “pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind” He is filled with mercy and He knows “according to the flesh...how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” (Alma 7:11-12) As our Creator, He has already given us everything; He owes us nothing yet He gives us access to all things. His gift is free and unmerited. And, if we follow Him, He will guide us back home to a glorious place where we can live again with Him and His Father and our families forever and ever.

I am grateful for school buses. I am much, MUCH more grateful for Jesus Christ. This Easter season may our hearts be filled with gratitude for Jesus Christ and His precious, priceless gift. And, even more importantly, may we all follow Him home.

My sister and I, undeterred by our previous biking adventures (...or perhaps encouraged by them…..) met up in Mesquite again this year and participated in the 2018 March Madness 65 miles bike ride. Good times.

The good times were slow to start. In fact, I was not sure they would start at all. Late Friday night, while unloading my bike from the back of the truck, the chain broke. All the bike shops in Mesquite has closed hours previously and they would not open again until after the event was scheduled to start. A chainless bike is about as effective as a bum steer. It might look nice but it would not get the job done.

My stress was unnecessary. (Is any stress necessary?) At the registration table, a kind lady told me to ask the Red Rock Bicycle Company’s bike mechanic and pointed me to a man wearing Chacos (clearly a good omen!). After listening to my sad story, he indicated he could probably help and asked me if I had the chain with me. (I must have looked as stupid as I felt….and I would have felt even more stupid if I’d left the chain behind!.)

“You are in luck,” he said as he fished a small something out of his toolbox and, after threading the chain back through all the sprockets, spokes and speed ring things, used it to reconnect my chain. Good news!

And the good times started...but they did not start quickly. In fact, there was nothing quick about it at all. Marjorie and I crossed the start line a 5:03 minutes after the leaders. We crossed the finish line almost four hours after the leaders. [The FIRST person to finish the 65 mile ride was a 63 year old woman who did it in 2:52:05.23. It took us 6:45:51.58.]

We were not quick but there were several quick things associated with the event.

Twenty-two and a half miles into the ride, at the first fabulous food (and drink and potty) station, it became very clear to me that short sleeves,short pants, and short shoes (i.e. Chacos) were not enough to keep me warm. I sent a short text (“Help!”) to Lance and he quickly responded. Bless him and bless him! He brought me a warm jacket and then spent the rest of the day shadowing Marjorie and I as we completed the course.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Miles and James were quick thinkers. Lance, coming to my rescue, left very quickly, so quickly that he had not time to think about, much less act upon, the need to check out of the hotel room. Miles and James, on an unrelated errand at the hotel service desk, thought to ask about check out time. When they learned they had to be out of the hotel room in 15 minutes, they quickly packed up everything (even Lance’s dress shoes that had been thrown in a corner) and moved out. Impressive action for a couple of teenage boys!

Quicker even than Miles and James moved from the cold pool to the hot tub was the wind that howled through the canyons Marjorie and I were navigating. Oh my lands! Heading out, toward Beaver Dam, it felt like a great day. Confidence surged, until we observed the riders coming back from the turn-around point. They were working….hard! We felt great because we had a tail wind. When turned around, our tailwind turned to a head wind and our confidence blew away. We had to pedal going downhill. Uphills (and there were several significant ones) were brutal. Brutal!But we did it. We did it! My sweet sister and I did it. No one and nothing can take that away from us. It was hard. And we did it. We did it! And it was good times. Not quick times but good times. And our good memories of the good times will last a long, long time.

Marjorie and I turning around to head into the wind....

Our bikes....

...and our support crew.

Love this man!

Crossing the finish line

Finishers. SO great to be biking with Kevin and Laurie Smedley again!

I earned a medal! (Everyone did.)

Me in my race t-shirt. (A week and a day after the race.) This shirt is so much better than the (ugly) hat we got last year. :)

As a freshman at Madras High School, my opinion of my abilities was super-sized (13 years before McDonald’s coined the phrase). My father taught me that I could do anything I set my mind to and I believed him. The science teacher had to re-calibrate the class curve so that my high score did not push everyone’s grade down, the oh-my-gosh-oh-so-wonderful senior and star of the basketball team (Ronnie Wilson--I held my breath when I passed him in the hall…...) asked me to dance more than once, and I was the second highest scorer of points on the varsity track team. It was a golden time.

Like most freshman girls (and like many, many young people who are not freshman and not even necessarily girls) I hero worshipped my track coach. Mr. Wiles made a big impression on me and I worked hard to impress him. My hard work and subsequent success led to a bit (maybe more than a bit….) of arrogance and I frequently fantasized that Mr. Wiles wished I were his daughter. I dreamed of replacing Janelle (his biological daughter whom I had never met) in his affections. Given my incredible (in my mind) accomplishments , how could he not wish that I were his daughter?

Oh my.

OH MY.

Now, as a mother, I have an answer to that question. I am certain that Mr. Wiles did not wish I were his daughter for the same reason I do not wish that anyone else’s daughter (or son) were mine. While I cannot specifically wrap words around the reason, it is real. My children are part of me in a very literal, guttural, fundamental, chromosomal way. They touch my heart in places inaccessible to anyone else. I love them as myself, indeed more than myself. Physically they are an extension of my life. Emotionally they extend and enrich my life.

Wish that someone else’s accomplished child were my own? Never. Not for a nanosecond.

My children have done some great things--both Chick and Tanah recently earned raises and got promotions at work, Grace had the leading role in the high school play and just received her FFA State Farmer Degree, Miles was accepted into the Project Lead the Way program--but they also have some struggles, details about which I will not share because they are not my stories to tell. As great as our children are, there are children (many) out there more accomplished than ours--children who have earned better scholarships, who are better athletes, and who have served in better leadership positions--but there are no children anywhere that fit better in my heart. They fit perfectly.

Friday I took all OPA 8th graders who did a science fair project to the Museum of Natural Curiosity at Thanksgiving Point. This is my fourth time taking students to the museum and, in their end of year reviews, it consistently ranks as one of their favorite field trips. We spend the day adventuring--riding the train to and from the museum and exploring with abandon inside the museum. Good times.

Friday dawned cold and snowy, so cold and snowy, in fact, that one could not even see the dawn….or the sun...or the mountains. A student texted me “Considering the weather, are we still going on the field trip?” “Yes,” I responded. “Snow does not bother trains.”

We boarded the train in snowy conditions in Ogden and exited the train in snowy conditions in Lehi. Plans called for us to walk the half mile from the train station to the museum. Though we were in near blizzard conditions--visibility about 300 yards, snow flurries, and temperatures in the low 20’s with a wind chill factor that made it seem significantly colders--I was not worried. It is difficult to kill an 8th grader; walking a half mile in these conditions would be good for them.

I wasn’t worried until I got off the train, directed my group to walk north, and did not recognize anything. Granted, visibility was restricted but I did not recognize anything. Nothing. The kids ran animatedly ahead, pleased to be free from school’s normal restrictions. My concern grew as the distance between us and the train station we were leaving behind grew. I did not recognize a thing. I had done this same trip multiple times. Where did I grow wrong?

Aware of my ability to mix things up, I called the museum. “Are we supposed to get off the train at the Lehi stop?” I asked. Yes. Just follow Garden Street north, I was told, and you will reach us. Okay. We were on Garden Street and were heading north. We had to get there soon.

But we didn’t…. We did not get there and looking ahead I could not see any sign that we were going to get there. We were in a subdivision where no subdivision should exist. I called the museum again. “We are in the middle of a subdivision,” I told them. “I don’t know where you are,” they responded. “I don’t either,” I said.

I found street signs on a cross street and gave them my coordinates. “You are a long way away,” they said. “Keep going north and the street you are on will turn into Garden Street and the museum is on Garden Street.”

I told Amamda, a parent who was with me and who had found our location and destination on her smartphone, “We just have to keep heading north and we will get there.”

Unable to see the mountains because of the near-whiteout I had become disoriented and had led the group (80 students and 10 parents) a half mile in the wrong direction...which meant we had to go back a half mile and then we would still have a half mile to go to the museum...and the storm was worsening.

We turned around and began walking back. When we were walking the wrong direction the wind was to our backs so the blowing snow was not so bad. When we retraced our steps we were heading into the wind. Snow pellets stung our faces. Jovial lightheartedness was replaced by a dogged endurance. Talking and laughing ceased. It was cold. COLD.

My phone rang. “This is Katherine. I have the museum van. It only holds 12 passengers but I am coming to get you.”

My mind whirled, figuring out how to get transport nearly 100 people in a 12 passenger van….. We’d congregate in the tunnel under the train stop (a concrete tube, unheated but sheltered). Women and children first. I would send the least physically fit female chaperone with the coldest, frailest girls in the first van load, and then, triage fashion, rank those who remained in ride order. I would challenge all who remained to “man up” and walk with me the half mile to the museum. Assuming that some would accept my challenge, I would walk with as many as would to the museum, leaving Mr. Zundell (the OPA employee accompanying me) supervise those remaining at the station. It was not an ideal situation but at least it offered some hope.

Eventually we made it back to the train station, very cold and wet but not whining. At least not to me.

Just after everyone went into the tunnel under the train stop Katherine showed up in the van and, just after Katherine showed up in the van, two big yellow school busses pulled up. TWO BIG YELLOW SCHOOL BUSSES!

The museum hosts kids from multiple schools in a day. A school from Alpine School District was visiting the museum that day as well. Katherine had approached the drivers of the busses that transported those students, explained our plight, and asked if they would come to our rescue. And they did.

It was a gracious gift from God and a testament to the goodness of people. I was honestly worried. The kids were cold. COLD. And wet. Being junior high kids, they were not adequately dressed. Most were wearing only hoodies and canvas shoes. One girl was in a skirt and a couple boys were in shorts. My fingers and toes were cold and both were encased in leather. I could only imagine how their unprotected digits felt. I knew we could walk to the museum if we had too but I knew it would be a miserable, MISERABLE experience and I felt so, so, SO bad. Awful. Truly awful.

The busses showed up like gifts from God. I know what angels looks like. One of my angels is a Latino with a warm smile and he is driving a big yellow bus. Another is a sandy-haired woman who also drives a big yellow bus. And a third has short, curly brown hair and shows up in a Museum of Natural Curiosity van.

I understand the principle of grace a little better now. I was given a free and unmerited gift. I messed up. TOTALLY MESSED UP. And, in so doing, caused almost 100 innocent people to suffer. And there was nothing I could do, NOTHING, to remedy the situation.I felt horrible--HORRIBLE--but I could not make it right.

Enter grace. I did nothing to merit our rescue. I did not pay any money. None of those people owed me favors; they did not even know me!. But, thanks to their goodness, mercy and compassion, a service was provided for me (and those I had hurt) that I could not do for myself. Free. Unmerited.

Thank you Katherine, Felix, and Janae for being graceful instruments in God’s hands